The Nearest To My Heart -John Lennon Fan Fiction - Paul McCartney Fan Fiction - Beatles Fan Fiction

Chapter Three - Preconceived Notions

King's Supper Club is located above a fabric store off Regent Street. There isn't a sign that identifies the dining establishment.

The old-fashioned social club held a certain appeal to John. King's was one of his favorite restaurants to enjoy a meal, and the fans didn't know about it. He knew it would be the perfect place for his and Charlie's double date with George and Annette.

The Maitre d' smiled disdainfully. He refused their entrance, stating the restaurant was booked for the evening. 

They could see into the dining room from the vantage point of the podium the Maitre d' stood behind. There was only a handful of people seated.

The discriminatory actions of the Maitre d' reminded her of the harsh truth, that regardless of where she traveled that the possibility of encountering bigotry was real. This experience had put a bit of a damper on the evening for her.

John responded with a curse-filled tirade. Charlie understood the sentiment, but people were staring, and Charlie just wanted to leave.

They piled back into the chauffeur-driven car. John continued. "I should've beaten the shit out of him."

Charlie shook her head. "You're better than that."

John's temper subsided. "You and Annette shouldn't have to put up with arseholes like that, Tilly."

"We shouldn't, but it's part of our lives."

"Should we go to The Regency Cafe?" George suggested. "We don't get bothered there."

(----) 

The Regency Cafe was a small greasy spoon that reminded Charlie of the diners back home, and she was comforted by the familiarity of the place. George's suggestion that they eat there had saved the evening for her. 

The group sat at a table in the middle of the small restaurant. They didn't have a chance to look through the menus before their waitress asked for their drink orders.

Charlie had developed a taste for tea since her time in London. At John's suggestion, she placed an order for a builder's tea.

Their waitress promptly returned with their drinks and stepped away from their table to give them time to look at the menu.

Charlie grabbed her cup, blowing on the hot tea, and took a sip. Her eyes widened at the strong taste of the robust flavor. She placed her cup on the table. "That tea is stronger than any black coffee I've ever had." She made a face, the taste heavy and unpleasant.

John grinned and took a drag from his cigarette. "Builder's tea is a strong black tea and not for everyone --"

"And, you suggested I order it," Charlie replied annoyed.

He tucked his cigarette into the corner of his mouth. "I was under the impression that you could handle it." He grabbed her cup.

"I can handle anything." She reached for the cup.

John moved it out of her reach.

"Anything you don't say, do you?" John raised his eyebrows. "I'm one of London's most sought-after tea experts," John added some milk and several spoonfuls of sugar to the dark red tea and stirred it with a spoon. "You have the privilege of receiving my services for free." He slides the cup back over to her.

"I think this night out is a form of payment." She replied, dryly and took a sip. It tasted better with milk and sugar. "This is good. Thank you." She had another sip.

"You're welcome," John pulled the cigarette from the corner of his mouth stubbed it out. It had smoked itself and was nothing more than ash.

Charlie looked through the menu, finding several items that were familiar to her, but she wanted to try something different. She looked over at John. "Do you suggest anything?" 

He turned the page to the breakfast menu. "A full English might be too much. It's a dish more suited for Roly-poly."

Charlie knew that John's moniker for the Debutantes manager was an accurate physical description of Howard, but her sense of loyalty and gratitude made her speak up in defense of him. "He's gotten us this far so he must be doing something right. He took a chance when there was no guarantee that we'd go anywhere."

"It isn't anything that countless managers before him haven't done." He pointed out.

"Yes, but he's our manager, and it means something to me. He's not polished, but he fights for us."

John nodded and decided to lay off. "He did get you to me. I suppose he isn't half bad."

Charlie smiled. "He really isn't at least not all of the time." She resumed looking over the menu. "Let's get the full English and share it,"

John nodded. "Alright,"

Charlie had been uncertain of what to expect from John tonight. He'd come on strong the other evening. He wasn't aggressively trying to hit on her now, and Charlie was enjoying his company.

They talked over their shared plate of food, only scratching the surface of each other's lives. They made a connection through their shared biting sense of humor. She could've spent the rest of the night in that diner talking to him.

(----)

"We should come back." Charlie looked out of the window as the chauffeur pulled away from the cafe.

"You liked eating there?" John wanted to impress her with something high-end.

George's suggestion had been the better one. He looked over at his mate, and Annette wrapped up in a playful conversation.

Charlie smiled. "It reminded me of home. A piece of New York in London."

"How do the two compare?"

"The same in many ways," She thought about the Maitre d'. "And different in surprisingly good ways."

Their chauffeured car had stopped in front of the girl's hotel.

John placed his hand on Charlie's knee. "Are you sure that I can't talk you into going to a club?"

The evening ended far sooner than John would've liked. They'd stayed longer at the cafe than he'd anticipated, chatting with each other, and the time had gotten away from them

"I had a good time, just sitting in the diner with you and talking. The best night I've had out in a long time."

"Best date I've had in ages." He squeezed her knee.

She didn't want to lead John on, but she didn't want to tell him this hadn't been a date. She is interested in Paul, but he is taken. John was unattached, but it wouldn't be fair to use him.

"Goodnight, John." She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, and patted his hand on her knee. She thought it was an innocent gesture which John couldn't misinterpret.

"I should walk you to your room. Make sure you get there safely." He wiggled his eyebrows.

Charlie laughed. "I think I'll be safer if I see myself inside."

He watched her climb out of the car. "Goodnight, Tilly." He stated softly to himself with a smile.